A loud, obnoxious, squealing noise had been what had initially captured the poor boy's attention. As he had bustled forwards in the cold, hands jammed in his pockets, breath emanating itself in the form of white puffs in the frigid, afternoon air, the awful noise had begun its screeching siren. Puzzled and annoyed, the teen had thrown his hands, chapped from cold-to his ears. Danny had then turned around with a small frown as he, like many passerby bustling to and fro in the crowd, in an attempt to locate where the serrated sound was coming from.

Danny had only a split second to capture where exactly the source was.

His blue orbs had widened, and people scrambled for cover around him, one or two of them shouting a warning-

Too late.

A loud, foghorn-like HOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNKKKKKKKK! Had blasted his eardrums-and the boy had staggered back with a cry of alarm, in a futile attempt to escape as his mind went blank, and he abruptly lost all feeling in his limbs.

The bit of sunlight still stubbornly determined to place a small, illuminated fingertip upon the small town of Amity Park-had glinted off the approaching window of the vehicle.

And then, came the collision.

Not long after, the screaming staring.

~*~*~

He could not remember when and how the car had hit him; all he could recall and know, know above all else, a blinding series of white spots that began to plaster themselves about his vision as he'd flown backwards, eyes enormous and dilated, mouth open in a wordless cry.

The dark, rust covered stains across his vision followed shortly afterwards.

Red had flickered in as the stinging stars of pain had almost immediately began to stab eagerly at his insides, and, in spite of the cold air whipping past his long, raven bangs, he felt something warm, and wet.

Blood?

Danny didn't know, and didn't care. His body hit the arctic-like, rock-solid pavement with a series of nasty crunches, and his form had then been so overcome with sheer agony, that his body went numb with the intensity of it all, for a moment or two.

Too bad that the numbness didn't last any longer-his body arched with the crushing blows it had received; stung with cold fire that left the boy gasping, blind, and trembling in the dark asphalt, surrounded with a rich, ruby red material as he faintly heard a car motor rrrrrrrrrrrrr to a stop somewhere in the distance. He could hear the thud, thud, thudding sounds of people's feet padding across the pavement as they raced to him, could hear beeps of several, miscellaneous cell phones as people hurriedly began to call for an ambulance-

But the boy simply lay there, blinking, almost incomprehensively, in the street. His breath was pained, and labored-and his legs…

He didn't look at them. He didn't have to. The warmth sweeping from the gashes was enough of a confirmation, and the simple act of breathing left him feeling faint. He could not move his head. The pressure about his lungs left him gasping, and the toll of gasping left his forehead beaded with perspiration as the world swum in and out of an absentminded focus…..

And the effort of doing just that made his eyes burn with unshed tears. He closed them. It wasn't as if they were doing him any good, anyways.

The throbbing wiped his mind blissfully blank, every sense forgone to anything but the rhythmic thud of distress.

There were footsteps still pounding on the ground…or was that his own heartbeat? He couldn't quite tell.

Opening his eyes, Danny stared blindly up at the skyline, chest heaving once, then twice. He could hear a shrill wailing in the distance; but disregarded it.

What had happened? He did not know. He could not see, and no one would tell him. There was quite a bit of jabbering going on about him, but the words were meaningless sounds-and completely incomprehensible to him as he lay there.

Darkness swept over the scarlet, like the pie crust covering a filling.

~*~*~

He had been hurrying-that much he knew and remembered. He was going to arrive "fashionably late," at Vlad's for tea, though his….whatever Vlad was to him, other then undeniably, drop dead gorgeous…..knew that he didn't care for tea. It was just enough sitting in Vlad's chair….or, preferably, on Vlad's lap on Vlad's easy chair, as the hour ticked by in the Winter frost.

A light blush began to dust Danny's face, and the boy moaned. One of the paramedics surrounding the boy placed a soothing, gloved hand on his face before turning to talk very seriously to the anxious, uncertain storm of witnesses surrounding the boy's body.

Danny fidgeted, and attempted to speak; which had been a mistake. The world spun sickeningly in front of his eyes, and, his stomach wrenched. Danny threw up from where he lay, the hot sting of acid burning his throat as it passed, forcing the boy back when he was done. Groaning, Danny began to tremble again, goosebumps dotting his pale flesh-the flesh Vlad raved over each and every time he'd made love to the young boy…..

Danny went red again, but not from pain.

After his first….'visit'…with the man, much to his surprise, Danny found himself contacting Vlad quite often. The billionaire was suave, sneering, domineering….but those were traits that were all too…..

His ears were pink, but not from cold.

No one could make him feel as Vlad did in bed. Not that he ever tried, and not that Vlad was ever going to make him feel as though he were welcome to anytime soon…..the guy was kind of possessive. Whenever the two had appeared in public together (Which happened but rarely, pardoning the times the two had paid their favorite coffee shop a nostalgic visit), whenever any girl…or guy, for that matter….happened to look at him for more then two seconds, if Vlad weren't already by the boy's side, he'd be there in a heartbeat, with an expression that hardly befitted someone of such high 'class' as Vladimir Masters, billionaire typhoon.

In spite of himself, Danny almost smiled.

Then again, perhaps the whole, 'I'm going to tear you into microscopic pieces in 1/100th of a second if you don't look away NOW' was a rule Vladdy had never happened to tell him about.

The paramedics were talking to him in urgent, but patient murmurs, but Danny was not quite listening.

Though it was…unnerving, it was also….slightly flattering. Vlad seriously had to give him way too much credit. The way he touched Danny, or held him….nowadays, it was almost as if the man were holding broken glass, or a little angel. Normally, the man leered at Danny during….that…special time…and his fingers twitched a lot, as if he were contemplating tearing the boy apart with his hands, or devouring him whole with those dark, burning, cold eyes of his….

….but afterwards, though the man had insisted that he was "not a cuddler…" lately, he would simply hold Danny, for hours on end, until the two fell asleep, alabaster fingertips brushing through the boy's raven-colored spikes while Danny waited for his heart beat to slow down, while listening to the soothing mantra of Vlad's beneath his head. Once it had stopped fluttering somewhat, it became a constant, steady, resounding beat. Danny was probably never going to tell the man that-as if he needed another reason for the guy to gloatingly hold something like this over his head-bur right now….

It was the only thing Danny really wanted to hear right now. A soothing beat that served as a lullaby, as the man would sometimes pause, bend his head, and brush his lips against Danny's forehead, cheek, lips, neck, or shoulder.

Sometimes, the two simply….talked. About anything. So long as the conversation didn't stray towards himself too often. Vlad was entirely too fascinated with him for his own good….and there were aspects of his life that Danny wouldn't. Danny couldn't-let people in so easily. Even though Sam and Tucker were there with him for…a great deal of it, there was still uncharted territory that the boy preferred be kept locked most of the time.

At least Vlad knew this, and didn't push the subject, like Jazz sometimes-if not always-did, brushing her fingertips on more painful memories until the boy could hardly stand it anymore, and simply left the house, fuming. If he didn't take refuge with Sam or Tucker, he now did so with Vlad-increasingly. The man wouldn't ask questions if Danny suddenly arrived at his door, soaked, and breathless in the dead of night. It was enough to be held by the warm, flickering blaze of the hearth, cradled to Vlad's chest, even as the man's fingertips brushed passed the Japanese kanji on his back:

Boku wa kowareta messiah?

Danny could feel himself being slowly, carefully moved…..though the sirens sounded much, much farther away then they really were…

He could talk to Vlad about anything. Nowadays, it was as natural as breathing. It was good to be with him, good to be kissed by him, good to be taken by him, good to talk with him.

Danny shook his head faintly. What was wrong with him? He'd never been a sentimental sap before. This was ridiculous.

…..so then, why did he want to see Vlad quite so badly as he did right now?

A slight stab of regret entered the scene as light finally flickered back to Danny's vision, even as the boy was being strapped to a stretcher. One of the Ambulance Assistance had picked up an almost destroyed, but still ringing faintly, cell phone.

Danny's heart leapt, and the boy's stomach faintly lurched again, but he forced himself not to throw up once again as he weakly gestured for the phone as the paramedics carefully loaded him into the waiting white car, spots flashing across his vision once again.

He faintly extended a cream, trembling hand, and Danny went paler upon seeing just how much crimson was on that arm.

"G-Give that…to me," he rasped out finally. "It's for me."

~*~*~

He'd been correct: It had been Vlad. Had the situation not been so deathly serious, the boy could have laughed at the man's impatience and worry, but he'd barely been able to slur out a message before his eyes closed once again, and the paramedic took over, taking away the phone in a firm, gentle hand. After that, she'd pulled an air mask over his face, and the world began to slow down once again.

The tears fell from his eyes, and, as Danny closed them, he soon no longer felt anything-even the cold.

~*~*~

He shook and moaned; pain raced against his spine like fire, and he cried out in his mind. Unseen hands groped at him, administering needles, and Danny cried out once again, in the howling, dark storm of his pain and confusion.

Someone, Anyone…..

But no one came. Danny trembled, hearing a faint crashing noise at the back of his head…..

…no…..

A series of jabbering, threatening voices. Well….for the most part, the voices sounded pleading. But there was one voice-desperate, enraged, and slightly familiar-rising above the rest-

Y&*ERT*&%()%^%IJ?

The world was disorientated, and he felt sick again-

R)T*^$$O)&&%FVHISF%*^…

He hurt; everything hurt, and the quaking urge to sob was overpowering, even though the shakes would only send fresh new waves of fire down his chest-

"Sir! Please-d-don't…."

Someone was touching him; Danny squirmed away from him. But whomever he'd wriggled away from was clearly not having that.

Still confused, still writhing, the boy felt someone lift him-as easily as if Danny were a rag doll, disregarding his struggles as wires slipped around his body…..

…no…

A soothing voice. He could not make out any words, but the voice was enough, sparking a deep hum of a melody in the boy's rippled thoughts, soothing them and smoothing them.

Fingertips caressed his skin; a pair of lips tremulously kissed the nape of his neck. Danny still could not see as he felt himself being lowered onto a comfortable weight, someone holding him-and quite tightly. It was getting to the point of uncomfortable for his aching body, but his mind clung onto the information, the way a drowning man will grasp at straws.

Warmth. Another caress, with shaking fingers. His legs were tucked in. He heard a gasp, and a few choice swears that Danny had never even heard before.

A muffled whimper. The slightest brush against the top of his head, as if it were tucked under someone's chin. Then, the bemused boy's face was pressed into something soft and warm, with something pounding a mile a minute.

The familiar scent of expensive tea leaves. Danny's bewildered thoughts did a complete 360.

'…..Vlad?'